


The Last Night

by Morfeus



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Time, Not Like That, Smut, i dont know what i'm doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3121571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morfeus/pseuds/Morfeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the evening before the battle, scumbag Riordan just dropped the bomb</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I ever publish anything, I appreciate constructive criticism. English is not my first language so do tell me if I make any grammatical/spelling errors but please be nice about it.

Elissa closed the door to her rooms and leaned against it. She was going to die. The words of Riordan was still spinning in her head. It was to be the ultimate sacrifice and there was nothing to do about it. There was truly no other option, to let the world plunge into darkness and despair. But Maker, she wanted to let it. Why must she do this, why her?  
Her nails dug into the grooved wood of the door, splinters pushed into her fingers. The sting of it made her all the more aware of how fast her heart was beating. It hurt as if it tried to push out of her chest. Perhaps Riordan could do it, he was after all the one who told them, she thought. As if he had not done so it would not have to come to pass. Or maybe Alistair. He had hurt her more than anyone ever had when he came to her after the Landsmeet. But that was a petty and childish notion, and she knew it. He had been right that Ferelden needed stability and that anything that would endanger that would have to be stopped. Even their love for one another. She was raised in nobility and knew all too well how important linage and status was. He had to forsake her in order to marry Anora. And, how would she continue to live when he was dead?  
No, it had to be her. There was no one else.   
She took a deep, shaky breath and pushed away from the door. She passed the big bed and came to stand next to the desk that was placed in front of a tall window. It was dark outside and she could see the moon as a single spot in the sky. Its edges wavering when seen through the uneven glass of the leaded windowpane. Elissa drew her sword and placed it on the table before unbuckling her belt. She tossed it, scabbard and all, into a corner. Her greaves were already gone but the mail she dragged over her head, savouring the lightness as it came of. Finding a rag and some oil she set to cleaning her sword, the routine familiar and reassuring. At least she was going to be as prepared as possible. The tip scraped against the stones of the floor as she leaned the blade against the inside of her knee while she sat on the chair in front of the desk. One hand grabbed the hilt and the other took the oiled rag and started to spread the grease across the blade. Light from the candles on her bedside table played on the reflective surface. She lost herself to the methodical strokes until she reached the base of the sword, just beneath the guard. There the stamp of Highever caught the light making it stand out clearly. Suddenly her heart lurched again as she thought of home. Her father’s smile and her mother’s calming hands. Reality came crashing back and all she wanted was to be a little girl again, curled up in her father’s lap while her mother soothed her. This was not how things were supposed to be. Mother and father dead, and Fergus-. The lump in her throat grew even bigger and tears started to trickle down her cheeks. Her brother was going to be all alone. Somehow that made her unspeakably sad. However, she knew that was just a way for her mind to cope. To pity Fergus instead of herself. Fergus would be fine, he would rule Highever as good as their father ever had. She allowed herself to wail loudly and sob as she thought of her imminent death. After a few minutes though she straightened in her chair and put the sword back on the desk. With the sleeve of her linen undershirt she dried her eyes and wiped the snot away. The crying had made her head throb. She felt so very tired. Not bothering to remove her leather breeches she crawled into bed and tried to make herself as small as possible. All she wanted was to sleep and wake up from this nightmare. 

Elissa started as she awoke. The fear of her dream gripped her heart like cold steel. It was a darkspawn dream, the same ones that had haunted her since her joining. But somehow this had been more palpable than ever before. Perhaps it was the close proximity to the final battle, she thought. Immediately she regretted the thought as she once again was thrust back into reality. Fear renewed its grip on her as she looked to the window. How long until morning?  
It was, however, still dark outside and she could still see the moon. Judging by the candles she could not have been asleep for more than an hour. All traces of tiredness had fled, but the fear lingered. She shivered as she lay there on top of the bed covers. Her longing for comfort from the terrible dream drove her to rise from the bed. She was out the door before she knew it. As she closed it she stood in the hallway outside her room for a while. She knew with certainty where she wanted to be right now. With who she wanted to be. A small part of her told her she should not go to him. That it would make the pain worse. But a bigger part of her, her heart, longed to be in Alistairs’ arms again.   
Her feet took her to his door. She raised her hand to knock but then thought better of it. Perhaps he was asleep, then all she would have to do was to stand there watching him for a while before returning to her own bed. Yes, that would be for the best, no need for an awkward explanation or showing him just how afraid she was. This was her burden, not his.   
However he was not asleep when she silently entered his room. It mirrored her own quarters and he stood with his back against her, looking out the window. He did not seem to notice her. For a minute she just stood there in silence watching him. Like her he was stilled dressed in undershirt and breeches. His broad back was straight and his hands clasped behind it. His fist clenched tightly. Hesitantly she cleared her throat and took a step forward. Still he did not move. When she came to stand by the bed she let her voice out, a small, piteous sound. At that Alistair spun around and with two long strides he had his arms around her.Elissa leaned into him, pressing her head to his warm chest. 

“I guess it’s too late to skip out on this whole save the world thing.” His voice was a strained in a pretense to keep it light.

She hugged him tighter, feeling him respond in kind. Then she looked up at him. Alistair had the same embarrassed smile he always wore, the one she loved. But instead of avoiding her eyes, as he used to when smiling like that, he looked straight into hers. There was no humor in them. Instead he looked so very vulnerable it made her heart ache. He had looked at her the same way when Duncan had died. Her mind once again jumped at the chance of forgetting her own sorrow and she welcomed it. She put her arms around his neck, rising to her toes to brush her lips against his. Without hesitation he bent forward to meet her. His hands slid down to her hips, pressing his body against hers. The kiss deepened when he opened his mouth to her and she wanted nothing but to devour him, to meld with him. Then she felt his erection. No, she thought, she did not want that, they shouldn’t. But as she tried to pull away his grip on her hips tightened and she could see the want in those eyes. 

“Please.” He pleaded with a hoarse voice. 

She hesitated. There was no reason for her to deny herself this, not truly. She was going to die tomorrow. Her moment of wavering was all that Alistair needed. As he lifted her from the floor, her legs automatically came up to wrap around him. Holding her to him he climbed atop the bed behind them. On her back, she released her hold on him and he settled between her legs. He was grinding himself against her and his lips moved along her throat. One of his hands came up to cup her breast through the fabric her shirt. Elissa felt him slipping away from her as his roughness increased. So she dug her fingers into his sand-colored hair and pulled his head back up. His eyes were filled with raw emotion, no smiles, no wry amusement, just pain and fear and desire. 

“Oh Alistair.” She said filled with sadness at the look on his face. 

She released his head and instead pulled her shirt over her head. His hand ghosted across her ribs up to her breasts. He was not gentle as he took one in his hand and neither did he seem to react as he used to when she hissed at the touch. Instead of easing his hold he dug his fingers into her flesh. As if he wanted to feel her pain as much as his own. At that Elissa came up to mash her lips against his. Damn him.  
She grabbed the hem at the back of his shirt and nearly ripped it off him. When they broke the kiss he once again set to kissing her throat. He released her breast to tear at the laces at the front of her breeches. She slipped out of them and her smallclothes at once. The air on her hot skin made her shiver. Her thighs came up to squeeze Alistair closer. He rubbed himself against her, the soft leather of his trousers suddenly felt very rough on her sensitive skin. His mouth was next to her ear, his heavy breathing almost deafening as they both scrambled to free him of his constriction. 

Alistair leaned forward, pressing his chest down on her as he raised his hips to guide himself. Her nipples throbbed against his warm skin. Her body was not ready for him, but the friction and tightness of it all soon made her more accommodating. Already when he rocked forward once more did he reach all the way inside. The gasp she let out at that made him growl, a noise she had never heard from him before. He picked up pace, grunting with every movement of his hips. There was none of the usual attentive loving she had always experienced with him. It made her feel so lonely, like she truly did not know the man on top of her. But the despite that, the repetitive stimulation of his movements started to affect her. She submerged herself in the building sensation. For several sweet moments all fear and sorrow went away as the orgasm rolled through her body. There was nothing else but her body and bliss. When her mind returned to her she found Alistair still surging ahead, chasing his own climax. Elissa realised that he, as much as she, tried to drive the fear and pain away. As if all the darkness and horror would disappear if he lost himself to his lust. All she could do was to hang on to him as he took his pleasure from her. She could do that for him. He supported himself on his forearms on either side of her as he became more and more forced in him movements. She brought up her arms, placing her hands on his buttocks to urge him on. With a ragged shout he suddenly slowed and then with a shudder he pressed himself to her. Using his feet he pushed himself so far inside that it hurt. Elissa lifted her hands to cradle his back and held his head to side of her own. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him as close as possible as she felt the jerking inside her.

“Oh Alistair.” She whispered, trying to pour all the love she felt that moment into her voice. “Alistair. Alistair. Alistair.” 

As their hearts slowly calmed their rhythm Elissa felt a wetness on her cheek and she was not sure whose tears it was.


End file.
